


Break Me

by crossroadswrite



Series: _____ Me [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Fuckbuddies To Lovers, Future Fic, M/M, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-01
Updated: 2015-10-01
Packaged: 2018-04-24 07:42:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4911037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crossroadswrite/pseuds/crossroadswrite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which they love each other but need better communication skills.<br/>.<br/>Derek’s fingers catch on a knot in Stiles’ unruly hair and he softly eases them off, not wanting to wake Stiles up. He’s not sure how successful he is since Stiles hums in his sleep and rolls closer to him on the bed, his naked torso pressing skin to skin with Derek’s thigh.</p><p>Like he was saying, he still feels, he still knows emotion. He still knows love.</p><p>Stiles hums again and rubs his nose across Derek’s hipbone, lips smiling in his sleep.</p><p>He still knows contentment.</p><p>“Watchu doin’, babe?” Stiles mumbles sleepily, pressing his lips in a gentle kiss against the soft skin of Derek’s side.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Break Me

Contrary to popular belief Derek has feelings.

Yes, he knows, it’s quite a jarring thought. Take a moment if you need to.

He knows he’s not the best at showing that he has them. He is fully aware of the fact that in that particularly area he’s a failure as a human being like he is in so many others.

It’s not he’s claiming to be the most emotive person on the face of this earth, but still he _has_ feelings and before you ask _yes_ he knows feelings beyond anger and pain.

Derek didn’t become a robot the moment his house burned down.

He still feels and he- he feels a lot. That’s the thing. Sometimes it seems like he feels too much, even if it doesn’t show on his face like it does on Stiles’, who is used to wear his emotions on his sleeve.

He knows pain and anger and confusion and joy and happiness and love and frustration and contentment and fondness and every single other thing one can feel. Give him a dictionary and he could search all the words for you, if you think that’s really necessary.

Derek’s fingers catch on a knot in Stiles’ unruly hair and he softly eases them off, not wanting to wake Stiles up. He’s not sure how successful he is since Stiles hums in his sleep and rolls closer to him on the bed, his naked torso pressing skin to skin with Derek’s thigh.

Like he was saying, he still feels, he still knows emotion. He still knows love.

Stiles hums again and rubs his nose across Derek’s hipbone, lips smiling in his sleep.

He still knows contentment.

“Watchu doin’, babe?” Stiles mumbles sleepily, pressing his lips in a gentle kiss against the soft skin of Derek’s side.

“Nothing,” he whispers quietly, too afraid to shatter this moment right here. Too afraid that if he speaks too loudly Stiles will realize what he’s doing and bolt out of the door like he has done for the past two months.

It never takes long for it to happen and this time it’s no different. Between a breath and the other Stiles’ muscle tense up, his breathing stops and stutters in his chest, realization dawning on him.

Stiles rolls off and away from him, bark arching as he sits up and hunches in on himself, feet dangling off the edge of the bed.

Derek wants to reach out and trace the knobs in his spine but that feels personal, that feels intimate and no matter how many times they fuck, no matter how many times Stiles lets him go slow and take his time, it still feels like intimacy is just out of reach for them.

“I’m showering,” Stiles mutters, boosting himself off the bed and picking his clothes up from the floor as he makes his way into the bathroom.

He always showers before he leaves Derek’s house, never accepts Derek’s offer to borrow a t-shirt or a pair of sweats like he doesn’t want anything to remind him what he’s been doing. Like he wants all of it to wash away.

Derek hits his head against the concrete wall behind him, lets the pain flare bright for a second before he breathes out through his nose harshly and tries not to feel disappointed.

For a pattern to be broken there needs to be an alteration to one of the components of the pattern and so far it’s all been the same. Stiles comes back from college, they can hang out but it’s always a _friend_ things, always with someone else with them. And then they’ll fuck if Stiles feels like it. Or if Derek feels like it.

Stiles always acts like he regrets it as soon as they’re done, save for the sweet moments Derek holds close where he’s all sleep warm and bleary eyed and calls him babe. Those slices of time feel like a dream and he’s learned to treasure them.

Derek kicks off the sheets and grabs some sweatpants and a clean t-shirt from his closet not stealth sneaking out of the loft but not making noise either. It doesn’t matter if he’s here after Stiles gets out of the shower or not. Not to Stiles.

Derek takes a shortcut that leads him to the edge of the woods that surrounded Beacon Hills and starts running.

It’s not like he hates what he and Stiles have. It’s just not what he envisioned when Stiles came back from college and made a move on him.

It’s so far from what he had envisioned, from the soft secret smiles and held hands and silly dates doing things Stiles loves just to see him light up.

They have sex and that’s it.

That’s the only thing Derek’s good for, apparently.

By now, he should really be used to that.

«»

Stiles pads out of the shower, dressed in last night’s clothes and with something ragged and unpleasant twisting knots into his stomach.

He always feels like he’s losing something huge whenever he leaves Derek’s loft, whenever he turns his back on Derek and forces some distance between them.

He knows exactly the kind of relationship they have. Stiles isn’t under any illusions, he knows that Derek only tolerates him because he’s _useful_ , someone he can trust in his bed not to betray him horribly and that’s it. There’s no sentiment there.

That’s why Stiles forces distance between them, he doesn’t think he could handle this if he didn’t.

It’s all the same. Derek’s ruined him for everyone else.

So Stiles will take what he can get from him, even if all he can get is fucking that feels more like fucking nothing.

“Derek,” Stiles calls, waits a full minute to hear an answer and when he doesn’t he figures Derek left again before Stiles could say goodbye.

It’s fine, really.

Stiles is getting used to the space _Derek_ seems to be putting between them. It’s not like he’s leaving back for college in three hours or anything. No need for a goodbye.

He scrubs a hand over his face. Does it twice and presses down against his eyelids for a moment to gather himself.

He doesn’t know how much longer he’ll be able to do this. Have Derek and not have him.

It’s been two months and he thought it would get easier, but it doesn’t. It’s so incredibly harder every single time they do this.

God why did he think he _could_ do this? Why had he been so stupid as to come to Derek and kiss him and have him only to have Derek look at him the next day, expression as closed off as it had ever been and demand what this was about. If Stiles really thought people like them could _date_.

The way he had said it had been the painful thing. How he sounded like he was completely disbelieving that such a thing could ever happen.

“I’m so stupid,” he tells himself, picks up his shoes by the door and his keys from the coffee table and leaves.

Sometimes he wishes he had never kissed Derek in the first place.

Everything would be easier then.

«»

“He’s using you,” Cora tells him matter-of-factly and with her teeth bared dangerously.

Derek sighs and shakes his head.

“He’s not using me Cora.”

“Are you sure? Because that sounds like he’s fucking you for shits and giggles with no regard for how you feel about it. Do you even _want_ to fuck. Derek does he-“

“He doesn’t make me do it, Cora. He’s not-“

“Any of your previous girlfriends,” she finishes and Derek flinches.

It’s true and he should be used to how blunt Cora can be but it’s still true and it still makes him flinch.

His sister makes an aborted move to reach over and touch him, before she remembers this is a Skype call and she can’t do it.

“Sorry,” she says quietly. “I just need to make sure.”

“I’m fine, Cors.”

“That’s bullshit,” she calls. “That’s such bullshit and we both know it. You’re letting this fuckboy break your heart, Derek.”

“Stiles is not a fuckboy.”

Cora pulls a face. “You’re so gone on him it’s not even funny anymore.”

“I’m- I’m not-“

Cora raises both her eyebrows and inclines her head in a ‘really, _really_ are you sure are you really really sure’ move that’s so much like Laura’s that it makes something pull too tight in Derek’s chest.

“Whatever,” he sighs and leans down to rest his head on his arms. He’s suddenly so tired of this.

“Does he know?”

“What?”

“Does he know that you like him? Because Derek I’ve met Stiles and he’s not that _cruel_. If he knew he wouldn’t be doing that to you.”

“I know,” he says quietly and that’s just the problem right there isn’t it.

If Stiles knew he would demand them to stop and Derek doesn’t know if he can handle that, not yet at least.

“You should tell him,” Cora advises, using her serious voice. “This isn’t good for you Derek. You should tell him.”

He sighs and slumps in his seat. “I know.”

Cora presses her lips together like she knows he won’t do it but thankfully doesn’t call him out on it.

“Lydia’s calling me. Be safe Der.”

“Be safe,” he says back, their own brand of I love you, before the call ends

Derek buries his face in his arms and decides to hide there for a minute.

«»

“So I talked with Cora Hale,” Lydia starts, sliding into the chair in front of Stiles and intertwining her fingers together.

Stiles looks up from the book he had been underlining and spits out the bright florescent marker he had been holding in his mouth.

“Should I be scared? Are you finally going to dominate the world?”

Lydia gives him a so thoroughly unimpressed and angry face he feels the need to drag the book over his lap to protect his private parts.

“You’ve been fucking around with Derek,” she accuses.

Stiles opens his mouth but before he can even get a word in edgewise Lydia interrupts him.

“You’ve been _fucking around with Derek Hale_. Of all the despicable things you could do that is the _lowest_ , but you’re my friend and I’ll give you an opportunity to explain yourself before I sic Cora on you.”

Stiles opens his mouth. Closes it again. Says, “What?”

He doesn’t know what Lydia is so upset about. He’s the one getting his heart trampled in that particular relationship. He shouldn’t be the one getting a talking to. Neither should Derek, it’s not like he’s obliged to like Stiles.

“Why are you fucking with the sexual assault survivor Stiles?”

He frowns. “I don’t know what you’re implying but everything we do is a hundred per cent consensual. I make sure it’s all green lights go with Derek before we do anything. And it’s _none_ of your business.”

“It’s my business when Cora makes it my business.”

“It’s not Cora’s business either.”

“It’s her brother. She has the right to know why one of her friends is abusing of her brother’s feelings.”

Stiles rubs one of his fingers, furrowing his brows in confusion.

“Derek doesn’t have feelings for me.”

“Stiles don’t be-“

“No, seriously. He told me so. He doesn’t like me like that. For a quick fuck, sure but not like that. I mean why would he, right?”

Lydia is quiet for a bit before she says very slowly, “He told you so.”

“Well yeah.”

Why is even having this conversation. Why is this a thing that needs to happen.

Lydia wipes out her phone and starts angrily texting.

Stiles watches her for a couple of minutes before he shrugs and goes back to underlining.

Ten minutes later Lydia storms out of the library muttering about how she can’t believe how she’s constantly surrounded by idiots. How she’s a nice aro girl who doesn’t deserve this.

«»

“I never said that,” Derek denies when his sister calls him demanding to know why Stiles thinks he said he didn’t want to date him.

“Are you sure? Because Stiles told Lydia you told him that.”

Derek blinks at the air in front of him.

“What,” he states.

Because what. Stiles thinks he doesn’t want him. What how what?

“You fucking moron,” Cora almost yells at him. “Lydia will pick you up at the airport. We booked your flight.”

“What.”

“You’re going to see your pseudo-boyfriend and sort your shit out. And then you’re going to pay my and Lydia’s vacation in Hawaii.”

Derek is silent, voice stolen by shock.

“Good, glad we’re clear,” Cora says and hangs up.

«»

Stiles is leaving his last class of the day, one hand rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he heads towards the bike rack to get his bike so he can go home and crash forever.

He scrubs a hand over his face to hide a yawn and when he lets his hand drop Derek’s standing there like a mirage.

Stiles grins, probably smiles like a goddamn lunatic because he missed Derek and here he is in all his Henley clad glory. He takes three quick steps forward, almost launches himself to hug him before he remembers that’s not the kind of relationship they have and stops himself.

“Hey De-“

“I never said I didn’t want to date you,” Derek cuts him off, taking a step forward.

“What? Did Lydia call you because it’s _fine_ you don’t have to want to date me, alright I completely unders-“

“But I do.”

Stiles blinks at him, uncomprehending.

“What?”

“I want to date you. I thought you didn’t want to date me.”

“Why the hell wouldn’t I want to date you,” he demands.

“Because- because you _said so_. Afterwards. You said so! I asked you if you thought we could work and you got quiet and then asked me if we could keep having sex.”

Stiles frowns. “That’s not what happened. You asked me if I really thought dating you could ever work. Like, like you knew it couldn’t. Like you _didn’t want to_.”

Derek furrows his eyebrows and takes another step forward.

“I never said that.”

Stiles mirrors him this time, stepping forward.

“Yes you did.”

“Well, maybe I did but that’s not what I _meant,_ ” Derek argues.

Stiles fills his chest with air, probably to power up for a comeback but then the reality of the situation hits him in the solar plexus and he wheezes the breath out with the force of it.

“You want to date me?” he asks, unbelievingly, in awe of it.

“Yes,” Derek affirms exasperatedly. Then stops and takes a second to look away before he asks very carefully, “And you want to date me?”

“Hell yeah!” Stiles laughs and this time he does launch himself at Derek, wrapping his arms around his neck and kissing him. Or well, attempting to. Their noses bump together and their teeth clack and it takes Derek steadying him before they can actually kiss properly, fully, wholeheartedly.

When Stiles pulls back Derek is smiling at him with his entire face, and that’s such a rare gorgeous smile on him he has to lean in and kiss him again, just _has to._

“Hmm you have no idea what I’m gonna do to you,” Derek hums quietly.

“Yeah?” Stiles asks. “Tell me.”

“I’m going to grab you by the hand and lead you to the really nice place I passed on my way here. The one that smelled like cinnamon and coffee and then I’m going to take you inside and buy you coffee and whatever else you want. And then we’re going to sit and talk about meaningless shit.”

Stiles hums, a beam breaking over his features. “Are you going to laugh at all my jokes and tell me I’m funny.”

“Maybe.”

“You gonna drop me off at my house with a kiss on a cheek and a promise to call me later.”

Derek leans over and kisses his nose, humming his assent.

“Sound good?” Derek asks when he pulls back

“Sounds perfect,” he says and it does.

 

**Author's Note:**

> *uninterrupted loud gibberish*


End file.
